Page 60 of The Village Midwife
‘Not especially. I feel as if that would be a bit of a slap in the face for you – because at least I have a job, right? How’s the job-hunting going? Having any luck?’
‘It’s so hard,’ he began, and then there was such a heavy pause that Zoe braced herself for the onslaught she knew wascoming. ‘I’m either overqualified or too old, or not qualified enough…it’s so frustrating. There’s so much competition, like a hundred people going for every job…’
Zoe’s attention drifted to the window as she listened. The moon was peeking out from a low bank of cloud, hazy in the damp night air. It was beautiful, like an impressionist painting, like the ghost of a moon, half there, half not. She could see the warm glow of the windows of Daffodil farmhouse, and she could picture Victor and Corrine, sitting across from one another on matching, well-loved armchairs, laughing together at something on the television as they munched on one of Corrine’s incredible cakes and drank tea so strong you could stand a spoon up in it.
She wouldn’t have minded a life like that. Perhaps she might even have had one if things had panned out differently. Not exactly like that, of course, because she would never have bought a farm or worked the land – that wasn’t her. But the cosy domesticity – that would have been nice. Victor and Corrine were more than a loving couple; they were a team, pulling through life together, both striving for the same goals, holding one another up when it was needed, celebrating success together and comforting each other when times were tough. They were two halves of a whole like no other couple Zoe had ever met. She’d loved Ritchie, but it had never felt like that. She had to wonder if what she’d had was real love at all, but how could she compare? If she’d never had real love, she wouldn’t know what the difference was.
‘Zo…’
She shook herself. ‘Sorry, I missed that last bit.’
‘I’m boring you.’
‘Of course you’re not. I’m tired. Tell me again.’
‘I don’t want to now; I feel stupid having to repeat it.’
‘Don’t be…’
‘Stupid?’
‘I didn’t mean…’ She sighed. She felt guilty, and feeling guilty often made her do things she’d later regret. Like now. ‘Look, if you want to come over and talk properly, then how about the weekend? Come for a few hours on Sunday if you’re free; I’ll do a roast.’
‘I do miss your roasts but there’s an away match this weekend and we’re staying over in Tyneside. I can come next weekend.’
‘Well then, you’re welcome to come next weekend if you’re free.’
‘I’m always free these days.’
It was a loaded comment, but Zoe resisted the urge to remark on it. The same could be said for both of them, but they’d both agreed that a divorce was the best way to preserve any kind of relationship at all and prevent it from souring beyond redemption. ‘There’s no pressure, but if you want to come, let me know so I can get extra food.’
‘That sounds good; I’d like to, thanks. Do you want me to bring anything?’
‘I don’t think so. I’ll let you know if I think of anything,’ Zoe said, already regretting an offer she didn’t feel she could take back, not when he sounded so happy about it. ‘It’ll be good to catch up.’
‘I’m really glad we can do this, Zo. Stay friends like this and it not be weird. Loads of my mates can’t even be in the same room as their exes, let alone phone them up or go to lunch. It’s good; it says a lot about what we had, doesn’t it? I miss having you around, just to talk to, I mean. I know we agreed on this, but?—’
‘I still think it’s for the best, but I’m glad we didn’t have to be weird about it. So I’ll see you next Sunday maybe?’
‘Definitely. Thanks, Zoe.’
‘Don’t mention it.’
After a few more false starts, Zoe managed to get him off the phone and leaned on the sink, staring out of the window. The moon had disappeared behind the clouds again, and now the lights in the windows of Daffodil farmhouse were down to one, upstairs, muted by closed curtains. Zoe knew Victor and Corinne often went to bed early because they had to be up at the crack of dawn, so it was no surprise to see. She wondered if she ought to invite someone else to lunch on Sunday. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust herself around Ritchie – but she wondered if he was getting mixed signals, and perhaps having someone else there would help to clarify things. Ottilie and Heath might come. Ritchie knew Ottilie, and he knew she and Zoe were old friends, so he wouldn’t be surprised to see her there.
Yes, that could work. She’d invite Ottilie and Heath too; it might just save her from the most awkward lunch of her life.
18
‘I’m so sorry, we’ve got plans already. We’re taking Flo to Kendal, and if we cancel, she’ll never forgive us.’
Ottilie picked up a teacloth and began to dry the mugs on the draining board, while Lavender swept the floor of the surgery kitchen. The air was still heavy with the spices of the Goan curry they’d shared for lunch, Zoe pleasantly full but slightly concerned about the effect that breathing on anyone during clinic might have on them. She suspected she might smell very garlicky about now, though she’d eat it all over again if she had the chance.
‘It’s OK.’ Zoe’s smile was perhaps more forlorn than she’d meant it to be because Ottilie grimaced at the sight of it.
‘Honestly, I would if I could. Can’t you ask Ritchie to come another day, one we can do?’
‘I don’t know why you’re having him over at all,’ Lavender cut in. ‘Tell him you can’t do it and leave it at that – you’re not married now, so you don’t owe him anything.’
